22 in the afternoon

I may abandon a blog, but i would never abandon promises i made to myself.

In exactly 2 hours and 3 minutes, I’ll be turning 22 — an age I’ve dreamed of. I’ve never been one of those people who thought they wouldn’t live that long, but I was someone who didn’t believe I’d ever make my younger self this proud.

One thing about having a non-existent audience is that there’s no pressure to keep them updated. But obviously, I don’t count myself in that — I’ve tried to pressure myself into writing so many times and failed because of the amount of accumulated news.

I just finished doing my hair, writing this blog that will update from 21 in the afternoon to 22 in the afternoon, waiting for my soon-to-be boyfriend to get home so we can call.

A lot has changed. And for the first time, I’m taking an impulsive decision right now — let’s say it’s for the plot.
A lot of people wouldn’t agree with it, but those who’ve read my older blogs know how much I’ve tried to break the cycle of planning every step ahead and avoiding anything outside the ordinary or “the box.”

This could kill me. But it could also not.

Your girl has a lot to say, but she won’t do it in a rush — because this space, my safe little corner, deserves more than a messed-up quick write. I need to YAP.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not spilling some tea. So to sum it up:

I started deep therapy, and it’s working.

Boundaries with some harmful relatives? DONE.

I’m in my third and last year of a degree I’m deeply in love with.

My friendships are still perfectly healing.

I cut off someone I once mentioned here — and it’s gonna be a juicy story.

I met Ostin — didn’t acknowledge him at all.

I now drive — and it’s going well.

I have a guy in my life that I actually like (if you read my blog, you know how wild that is). I’m finally breaking the cycle of avoidant attachment after choosing freedom — and a huge part of that is thanks to my family and friends (another story for later). It’s going well… though I still try to run from time to time. :(

And as I’m writing this, someone out there is playing with fireworks. I don’t know who, but I guess that’s the universe’s way of saying happy birthday, and good luck with the new journey.

I need to tell me something — and I want y’all to hear it too:

I didn’t know I could be so in love with myself to this point. But I am. And it shows.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and can’t recognize the glow — but I love it all. I can’t find anyone else to love more. I surprise myself with how great my brain is and how gorgelicious my tits are.
I’ve been dying to be 22 and was afraid it wouldn’t live up to my imagination — but it’s perfect.

I know someone out there might read this and feel bored, or think I sound delusional. But trust me — if you want a great early 20s, get good friends.
And by “good,” I don’t mean the kind you’re unsure how to act around — I mean people who feel like home. The ones who make you uncomfortable at first because of how safe you feel around them. People who can lift you up, not just hang with you.

It sounds hard to find, but it’s not. Everyone has someone out there — and they tell us it’s romantic love, but it’s not always that. In 2025, real romantic love exists, but it’s rare.
So get yourself people to ride through life with comfortably. I can’t promise they’ll last forever, but the memories will. And when you look back, you’ll feel grateful.

I love you, Zahra. Happy birthday — may your 20s always feel like this.

And dear reader, thank you for listening to my shenanigans. I love you a lot.

The next story I’ll write will be a story from 22 — in an afternoon.